


Devils Cry

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Crying, Family Reunions, Gentleness, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Intimacy, Love, M/M, Reconciliation, change of heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-07 03:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18612658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: "When they got to the other side, it was barely sunrise wherever they landed, and Vergil was flat on his back against the grassy ground and Dante laying on top of him. Neither had the strength to immediately get up, the constant strain of enemies and fights over the past few weeks—months, years, it's hard to tell at this point—catching up to them. So for a moment, they stayed like that, breathing heavily and smelling grotesque, and Dante wanted to cry."(Excerpt)First of theI went to the Garden of Love,  And saw what I never had seentrilogy:1. Devils Cry, the prologue2.Together & Whole, the story3.As One, the epilogue





	Devils Cry

**Author's Note:**

> **[DO NOT REPOST/REUSE MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]**
> 
> I ran out of Dante/Vergil material to read so I had to write more on my own, lol. Gods, I love them. (But I do appreciate everyone who writes and draws for Dante/Vergil and Dante & Vergil, your works are a godsend.)

So, when they finally found a place where the veil between Hell and the human world was thin, Vergil used Yamato to cut a portal between the worlds, and Dante made sure his dumbass of a brother didn't get to stay behind. He got his brother back; he wasn't going to let Vergil again. The devil hunter jumped in this time, he went all out and he wasn't going to let it come to nothing. _Not again._

When they got to the other side, it was barely sunrise wherever they landed, and Vergil was flat on his back against the grassy ground and Dante laying on top of him. Neither had the strength to immediately get up, the constant strain of enemies and fights over the past few weeks— _months, years, it's hard to tell at this point_ —catching up to them. So for a moment, they stayed like that, breathing heavily and smelling grotesque, and Dante wanted to cry.

He did, taking in the scent of his brother with his face buried in Vergil's shoulder as his tears made a poor attempt of washing away some blood and dirt.

( _He did it._ _He could face Mother again. **They** could._)

A limp hand made its way through his sticky, dirty hair. "What's there to cry about?" Vergil asked, voice tired but unwavering. "Did you prefer to stay in Hell?"

Dante let out a wet laugh, muffled against his brother's tattered jacket. "You didn't fight me," he said, and Vergil only hummed, acknowledging that fact but not yet completely willing to admit it.

The devil hunter didn't know who passed out first, but he was the first to wake up, the sun beating at them warmly as it made its way slowly above them.

The first place to go was Fortuna. The younger twin thought they both owed the kid something for the entire mess in Redgrave, not forgetting that they probably hurt Nero's feelings and left him behind. Nero was probably pissed off, waiting for them so he could once again kick their asses. The place where they landed was conveniently located close by, not even five miles from the bridge to the island city.

Putting everything—from his guns to their swords—Dante forced himself off of his brother and crouched lowly to heave Vergil up, an arm around his shoulders and his arm around the other man's waist. Taking a deep breath, Dante made way into Fortuna, ignoring the shocked stares and scared gasps of the citizens.

They must have been quite a sight, though, covered in dry blood, chunks of demon flesh still clinging to their clothes, and looking ragged like veterans who never recovered from war. The smell was pretty bad too, he can't deny that. He chuckled at the thought of that, trying to remember the right direction.

Ah, he made the wrong turn.

 

 

There was a light knocking at the door, interrupting the cartoon Nero and the three boys—Benjy, Adam, and Will—always watched on Saturday mornings. Kyrie was sitting next to him on the couch, reading on her tablet, only half paying attention, but she smiled every time she heard one of them laugh. Nico was in the garage with her van, working on another one of her projects.

"I got it," the young devil hunter said, lifting his arm away from behind Kyrie. She and the boys didn't look away from their screens.

There was another knock, and Nero huffed, grumbling that he was coming. When he answered the door, he was hit by the familiar scent of demon blood and flesh, the smell putrid, but the disgust was all but forgotten when his anger from almost year ago rose up again.

Without a second thought, Nero's astral wings popped up and punched Dante's stupid face, and the old man, carrying a burden and looking tired, couldn't dodge it and flew back several yards, an unconscious Vergil going with him.

"Nero!" Kyrie cried out, she and the boys looking towards the door with wide eyes and mouths.

"What the hell is going on?" Nico's voice carried out from the open door to the garage. The bespectacled woman came into the living room, eyebrows raised in question.

"They're alive!" Nero seethed at her, his wings stretched out large above him.

"Out!" Kyrie commanded, standing up and pointing out the door. "Not in front of the boys, Nero."

The young man looked over to the kids he and Kyrie took in, and they looked kinda excited, even little Benjy who was only six. "Pretty!" the toddler shouted, jumping up and down.

They rarely got to see Nero's Devil Trigger in action.

"No, it's okay, Kyrie," Adam argued lightly. He was the tallest one but younger than Will, and he had a button nose dusted with freckles that Nico liked to pinch.

"Hey, is that Dante?" Will shouted, sticking his head out the door. The preteen looked at Nero with a hurt expression. The kid believed he was Dante's favorite because Dante was _his_ favorite. "You said he was in Hell! And who's that guy with him? He has white hair too! You know him too, Nero?"

Nero sighed, knowing he needed to keep his temper down in front of the kids, and so he stepped outside, Nico coming with him. "Apparently, he made it out again," the young man said, gesturing for the boys to stay inside. "Like a cockroach." Only Nico heard that, and she laughed.

The two made it over to the two brothers, Vergil still unconscious on his face while Dante was looking up at the sky with a sheepish smile on his face. He didn't look mad at being punched, greeting Nero and Nico, "Honey, I'm home." He sounded lively, but there were deep, dark bags under his blue eyes.

"You stink," Nico said. _Hypocrite._ "You two come here for a nice, warm bath?"

"That sounds kinda nice," Dante replied. "If you'd be so kind, Nero. Your father and I might run up your water bill. It's been kinda rough."

Nero frowned, arms crossed, but then he grinned, grabbing Dante and Vergil by their nearly torn off collars. "Sure, but let's start with a cold shower instead," he said, dragging the two men onto the small lawn, and he began to spray at them with the water hose.

To his disappointment though, Dante sighed in relief and Vergil didn't even flinch, the feel of water not at all a bother but welcomed.

"That hits the spot," Dante said, lying next to his brother and taking Vergil by the hand. The younger twin laced their fingers tightly together, looking at the other man with content. It was like watching a scene set in the rain. The older devil hunter let his eyes close, relaxing onto the lawn. "I'll leave the rest to you, kiddo."

He passed out, which was expected, but Nero kept the water on a little longer, putting on the pressure to wash off the more hard to get rid of parts. Neither brother stirred, and Nero couldn't blame them for that. He'll give them non-stop shit later, when they wake up.

"Can I have a turn?" Nico asked, laughing.

Nero nodded, handing her the hose, and he stepped back into the house, Kyrie and the boys watching. The young man sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"I guess we're having guests staying over," he said. "I'll bring them in later."

Will pumped up his fist in cheer as Adam and Benjy excitedly nodded in agreement. Kyrie, wonder and beautiful, took it in stride, nothing about demons fazing her anymore for the most part.

"I'll set up the guest room," the brunette said with a smile. "Are they fine with sharing a bed?"

"They have nothing to complain about, half-dead. I'll call Trish and Lady later. Will, Adam, Benjy, don't go near them. They smell pretty bad, and I know you'll throw up."

"You don't know that," Adam said, having not idea at all of what when rotten flesh smelled like.

" _Adam_ ," Nero warned, and the ten year old conceded quickly, pouting but no longer testy. "Good, let's go back to the cartoon. We're missing out on the Ninja Turtles."

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Hunger_.

That was Vergil's first thought when he woke up, his body healed but weak and his throat parched.

He didn't recognize the room he was in, or the clothes he was wearing. Not even the sounds of the world outside was familiar. Maybe it was because he was more used to the sounds of Hell than this world.

In an instant, he felt on edge, feeling out of place and out of mind. His eyes searched around the room, his head twisting from one side to the other, until he was anchored by the sight of his brother.

Dante was at his side, facing Vergil with his mouth open like a fool. They were lying in the same bed, and a memory of their childhood flashed through his mind.

Whenever they had a nightmare, they'd never go to their parents, even though their father was the legendary Sparda and their mother was a gifted woman from a long line of devil hunters. No, they'd always go to each other, seeking their other half because _together_ , they were strong, stronger than any of the nightmares that scared them.

They'd never said it out loud, but that was what Vergil always believed, when they were young. (It took him so long to remember that.)

The older twin kept his eyes on his brother's sleeping face, taking in all the signs of aging on Dante's face. (They missed each other by so much time. Was it too late to go back to what they used to be?)

_Hunger_.

Those thoughts were forgotten when the part of Vergil's mind went back to gaining power, to _survive_. The injuries he'd sustained in Hell had depleted him in almost all strength but to heal. He will live to see another day, but he was in a state of vulnerability. He hated it, and again, he remembered being scared.

Out of desperation, the devil in him took the initiative, pulling closer to Dante, the closest source of human blood—even if it was not pure—and his closest kin. In Dante, he sought power and security by piercing the flesh where his brother's neck met his shoulder.

_Vile_ , ever since they were children and tasted each other's blood for the first time. It burned and tasted like cheap alcohol, the process so inelegant and so revolting. And yet, it seemed the only way to fill him, to satisfy his hunger and thirst. Vergil _loved_ it and _yearned_ for it, letting out a gracious moan as he swallowed the first mouthful.

The blood was wet between them, slipping through his lips and seeping into the pale green cloth beneath them.

Vergil didn't want to stop, he wanted to suck Dante dry until there was only a carcass left. Maybe that way, his brother would not grow any older than him, and Vergil can catch up, catch up to all the time he'd missed.

It probably would've happened had Dante not been woken up by the pain, by the blood, by the feel of Vergil's teeth in his neck.

"Vergil," Dante said softly, tired and a little annoyed, and he pulled his brother off of him by the flat of his palm against Vergil's forehead.

Vergil growled at the lost, not caring of the blood running down his chin and cheek. He knew he should stop, but he gripped Dante by the shirt, a size too small to be exact and gray. Specks of blood stained around his collar.

"Dante," he called out to, his blood coursing wildly in his veins. He could hear his heart beating thundrously in his ears, his mind cloudy with want and exhaustion.

The devil in him demanded for _more_ , but he remembered how it was to be the human side of him that he once threw away. He remembered what it was like to be V, to be _human_ , and Vergil wanted that because it was the side of him that wasn't pushed by loneliness and loss but by the memories of his mother, his father, _Dante_. He used to hate that part of him—weak and childish—but now . . . now he wasn't so sure if he wanted to lose it again. Never in his years among demons and devils— _apart_ from his brother—had he felt this fulfilled and happy.

"Using Yamato must have done a number on you," Dante said tiredly, and he pulled his hand away as he locked eyes with his brother. "Leave some of that for me. Selfish as always."

It was either because Dante could still read him like a book after all these years or that he just wanted to the same thing, the younger twin pressed their lips together, sticking out his tongue to lap up the blood on Vergil's chin and mouth, taking back what was his as he shared it.

The elder hummed in response, pleased with the touch and the gesture, and both sides were sated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It had been four days since Dante and Vergil showed up to the house, and they had been asleep ever since. It felt like only just yesterday when Nero told her about who the two men actually were, that they were his uncle and his father. That he actually had a family.

Kyrie was happy when she found out, though Nero seemed conflicted, learning that fact only a day before with neither men present to even let the fact settle in. She knew that her boyfriend was angry, but she also knew that in his eyes, trying to pass it off as nonchalant, there was a hint of disappointment. Finding out that he had a family left a mark in Nero's heart, but to lose them as soon as he found them was no doubt heartbreaking, an orphan who lost what he didn't know he had the first time and what he did know he had the second time.

When she came home from the grocery store, the boys dropped off at school and Nero on a job with Nico, Kyrie didn't expect anyone to be sitting in the kitchen, sipping a cup of hot tea with blood stains on the front of Nero's shirt.

Kyrie had never met Vergil, hearing only of him, but he seemed nothing like Nero described, legs set shoulder width part and hair pushed away from his handsome face. Seeing him awake in the daylight, she could see that he had the same shade of blue as both Dante and Nero, the sharp line of his face soft at his chin. If you blinked too fast, you'd mistaken him for Dante trying to pass off as someone with class, but even she knew that the other man would never sit like that when he could simply slouch and put his feet on the table.

_He's an asshole, a freaking try hard that got put in his place. And his smile is stupid too, like he knows more than I do. That doesn't mean shit!_

Kyrie bit back a smile when she realized that Nero described Vergil the same way he'd describe Dante, the two brothers different and similar in only the smallest ways.

"Good morning," the man at the table greeted politely, taking a sip of his drink. He looked too young to be a father, but there he was, the father of a man already grown, though sometimes childish. "You must be Kyrie . . . Nero's woman."

The brunette nodded, not correcting that use of that term, and she set the groceries down. "Good morning," she replied easily, giving the man a smile. "Would you like something to eat? And another shirt?"

Vergil shook his head, holding his warm cup in his hands like some sort of sacred object. "I have no need for human food, I had my fill," he said, looking outside the kitchen window. It had a view of the backyard where Kyrie and Adam had set up their little flower garden and where the large oak tree held up a tire swing. "And the blood doesn't bother me. I would like . . . I would like to simply stay here for a bit. That is if I'm not bothering you."

He spoke softly, and slowly, polite and thoughtful. Perhaps she was too naive, or too _human,_ but he seemed nothing like Nero said he was, nothing like the devil that invaded a whole city and brought Hell on Earth. Even she knew that wasn't the smartest thing to think, not after everything he'd done and said, after everything he didn't do or say, but Kyrie was hopeful, selfishly so, because this was Nero's father. She wanted the boy she'd known since childhood and grown to love to have everything he could possible want, and she knew Nero wanted a parent, someone just like him. Nero was part devil; with that arm that he was born with, no one would ever accept him as fully human, and now having Vergil and Dante in his life, even so late, meant he wasn't alone. That he never was.

"You're not," Kyrie replied, stepping out into the living room. She looked over to the bookshelf across the doorway and scanned each spine, picking out the brown book Nero brought back with him from that day. She came back, book in hand, and she placed it on the table for Vergil. He seemed like the kind to enjoy reading.

"Do you think Dante will wake up soon? I'll make him something, something that isn't just takeout and more junk food," she added, putting the groceries away. "What do you think, Vergil?"

The man looked away from the window, giving her decency of faced when addressed. He glanced down at the book for a second, taking a bit of time to answer, "He'll be ravenous."

The woman smiled, nodding in understanding. "It's a good thing I always make too much then."

 

 

Trish arrived a little after three, Kyrie dutifully notifying her of when either men woke up, and she found them bothand Kyrie sitting in the kitchen, Dante going all out on the cooked meals and Kyrie entertaining Vergil with a photo album. The younger woman was telling the man of the events of each picture, all of them involving Nero. There was blood on the men's shirts, nothing new.

The first thing that the blonde did was greet Dante with a punch in the face, knocking him off his seat in surprise. "Hell, and back again, huh?" she asked, tapping the front of her heel against the floor. "Rent and bills are supposed to be split fifty/fifty."

Dante laughed, even with his ass on the floor. He expected that, knowing that he just left without telling her. She knew he would survive anything that came his way, but she hated when she didn't know where he was, where he was going. He was her first friend, the first person to ever care about her, and she didn't want to be clueless as to where he was if she ever had to bury him. Not saying that Dante will ever be killed so easily, especially in combat, but her second greatest fear was to lose him. Her first was to lose herself.

"I'll pay the debt when I start working again," the man said, getting up. He patted at imaginary dust, and then he opened his arms out to her. "Missed me?"

Trish smirked, and she elbowed him in the stomach. Dante just laughed, clutching at his middle. She sat down at the table, ignoring Vergil's staring. Kyrie merely shook her head at all this, a small smile on her face.

"When will you be coming back?" the blonde asks.

"I don't intend to crash here for long," Dante answered, getting back in his seat, and went back to eating. He was hungry, must be after almost a year in Hell. And with Vergil. "I'll be in tip-top shape in a day or two."

"You know you and Vergil are welcomed to stay here as long as you like, Dante," Kyrie said.

"Thanks, Kyrie, but I have a business to take care of, and besides, if I stay here for too long, Nero's going to call me a bum."

"You are one," Trish said with an amused huff. She glanced over to the elephant in the room. "And you, Vergil?"

She had never gotten the chance to know the man as himself, only in coincidentally meetings as Nelo Angelo, a shadow of a puppet, so the only thing she knew about Vergil was from Dante, which was a mixture of childhood nostalgia, survivor's guilt, unaddressed anger, and foolish hopefulness. Trish didn't hate the older twin, but she didn't trust him either. Not after everything he'd done to Dante and after everything Dante had done for her.

But she also knew that Dante wanted Vergil back, even if it meant forgiving the older one for all the pain, the hurt, and the blood. Trish neither liked not hated Vergil, but she needed to know, to know whether or not Vergil was going to put Dante through all that shit again.

She caught the look on Dante's face, the thinning of his lips and long glance, towards Vergil. She was right. Dante loved Vergil too much, desperate enough to beg if he had to, but he didn't, not yet at least.

"I will follow my brother," Vergil answered, returning Trish's look, "that is if there is room enough to spare at your establishment."

Dante's face split in half, and he looked over to Trish because Devil May Cry had long become _theirs_.

Trish sighed, crossing her arms. "There is," she replied, accepting this too easily, "as long as you earn your keep."

Vergil nodded without a pause. "I don't expect anything less," he replied. "Unlike Dante, I am not a bum."

"Hey," Dante protested lightly, rolling his eyes. Then he poked at his brother's cheek, much to the other's annoyance. "I'm _not_ a bum. Nero's just mean enough to call me that. Don't be like Nero, he's a brat."

Kyrie laughs, shaking her head. She looked at both men. "I wonder who he gets it from," she commented, to which Dante winked at her.

Vergil huffed, smacking Dante's hand away from his face, and he stood up. "Kyrie, is there another shirt I can change into?" he asked, changing topics. "I'll make sure to burn this one for you."

"I put some of Nero's clothing in the drawer of the guest room for the two of you. Take any of those."

"Thank you, I will." Vergil gave her and Trish a nod before heading out of the kitchen.

"Me too," Dante said, looking down at his borrowed shirt which was a bit messier than Vergil's. Trish noted the healing wound at his neck for the first time, putting the pieces together in an instant. _Demon tendencies._ The man smiled at Kyrie, getting up and picking up the dirty dishes. "Thanks for the food, Kyrie, it was delicious. I feel like falling into food coma for the next week."

"It's my pleasure, Dante," the brunette replied, shaking her head. "You can leave those to me, you look like you still need some rest."

"Oh, thanks again."

Before he left, Dante gave both women a kiss on the cheek in gratitude, humming happily as he headed out the kitchen.

"You're spoiling him, Kyrie," Trish said with no bite as the other woman cleaned.

Kyrie laughed again, placing the dishes in the sink. "You saw how much he wanted to go with Vergil," she said knowingly, soaping up the sponge. "You spoil him too, Trish."

The blonde huffed, saying nothing in return because it was true.

 

 

Dante tackled his brother back onto the bed once he entered the guest room, laughing as Vergil let out a cry of surprise, his shirt half on.

"Dante!" his twin said sternly in warning. "Let go of me this instant!"

The younger brother ignored that order, settling between the other's legs and wrapping both arms around his torso. Dante pressed his face into Vergil's stomach, clingy and contemplative.

"Dante," Vergil tried again, but this time, his tone had lost its force. "Look at me, brother."

This time, Dante complied, lifting his face to reveal some tears.

Vergil remembered his brother crying, flashes of their childhood running through his minds. It was for the most trivial things, like there was no more chocolate or Vergil didn't want to play swords with him. It was annoying every time, but the older couldn't help but smile at the memories.

"Your bother is crying and you smile," Dante said, pretending to pout. "Evil."

Vergil chuckled, not taking the bait but taking Dante's face in his hands. The other man was warm against him, solid and real. "Don't whine," he replied. "Be glad I didn't just throw you out the window. Why are you crying now?"

"No reason, I just felt like it."

"Foolish."

"Don't care. Deal with it."

Again, Vergil chuckled, this time pulling Dante closer, and he kissed his brother, gentle and lingering. Dante gasped tiny before returning the gesture, placing a hand on the other man's face.

When they pulled apart, they remained close, inches apart, and Dante was smiling through his tears, Vergil continuing on by pressing butterfly kisses on his face.

"Okay," Vergil whispered, "whatever you want."

Dante let out a sob. "You," he said, "I've only ever wanted you, dumbass."

"Then you shall have me."

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I never really know where I'm going whenever I write for Dante/Vergil, and it's kinda frustrating? Like it goes the way that I want it to _feel_ but it never seems to end on a complete note and yet reaches its natural conclusion??? ~_~ What is this????? 
> 
> Also, yay, one more fic and I hit my 100th work on Ao3! :D 
> 
> If you like my work(s), please check out [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/kappachyun?s=09).


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